Diary of a Madman
by Frankie Beeblebrox
Summary: Voldemort's personally diary entry the night after he returns from the shattered existence he was thrust into by Harry Potter 13 years before. Probably a one shot unless I get some darn good motivation to continue and an excessive ammount of caffeine.
1. 25, June 1995

**A/N: All dates for this, and actually any of my stories, are found at the Harry Potter Lexicon. This is probably going to be a one shot. . . the result of too much free time at work. Read on. . . if you dare.**   
  
_25, June 1995  
  
Dear Diary,  
_  
I am at wits end. How on earth does he do it? HOW?!? I am the most evil and feared wizard in a century. . . possibly the most evil and feared wizard ever, and yet, this. . . this. . . boy. . . continues to foil my most dastardly plans!   
  
Okay. Calm yourself, Voldemort. Lets look at this rationally and objectively. How does Harry Potter escape from your grasp every time?   
  
_1. Inept Henchman.   
_  
True. They really are a bunch of blundering idiots, aren't they? I leave for ten years and look what they've done to the organization. No cohesive bonds any more. No true leadership among them. Lucius tries, but he can be a bit over zealous. He does mean well, and he is a good face to put forth for company. Can you imagine if I left Pettigrew to bring in new recruits? I shudder at the thought. Besides, Narcissa makes those scrumptious cinnamon biscuits. . .  
  
Must get back on track. More reasons. More reasons.   
  
_2. Outside help.   
_  
The annoying little pillock keeps getting assistance from everyone and their dog. Between his ubiquitous friends, centaurs, alchemists, talking hats, werewolves, teachers, house elves, bloody magical birds, and even Godric Griffindor (may he rot), how am I expected to keep up? I am, after all, only one man.  
  
Fine, fine, I'm not really a "man" any more per se, but you know what I mean.   
  
Oh, damnation. More reasons.   
  
_3. Gloating over my enemy before he is dead._   
  
I should know better by now, but ye gods, if it isn't hard not to gloat over his puny body when I have him in my grasp. From now on I shall try to remember that gloating only gives him time to escape. Ooooh! I'll make it my new mantra.   
  
I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.   
I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.   
I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.   
  
_4. Explaining myself to my enemy before he is dead.  
_  
See, this coincides with the above problem about gloating over him. I should know better. I have seen countless villains down at the club who have foolishly let the hero win the day, simply by explaining their plans to the hero while the hero is alive and bound at their feet. There we go! From now on, no more explanations until he is dead. Then I can explain my wonderful evilness to his corpse.   
  
Anyway, must go for now. Pettigrew has informed me that it's tea time and that Narcissa has popped over. I wonder if she brought the cinnamon biscuits with her. . .

Love,

_ Voldie_


	2. 3, July 1995

**_A/N: What can I say? Caffeine prevailed.   
_**  
_3, July 1995  
  
Dear Diary,_  
  
It is the perfect plan. My wonderfully depraved mind has pulled together the most deviously perfect plan ever to be hatched by an Evil Genius.   
  
Which is, of course, precisely what I am. Merlin, I am in awe of the sheer brilliance of it myself.   
  
Fifteen years in the making, this was what my diabolical mind has come up with. It is exquisite in it's simplicity. I can't believe it never occurred to me before.   
  
All I have to do is wait. Wait for Potter to come to me. I can hide, somewhere he would never, ever in a million years, expect me to be, and then I can leap from the shadows with a triumphant laugh and kill him on the spot.   
  
Isn't it ingenious? There will be no trusting of incompetent lackeys, no living off of some foul horse, no giant snakes (Nagini doesn't count), and no extraneous body count to help that wretched boy get away. No, I have finally realized that when you want something done, you have to do it yourself.   
  
Now then, where to hide? It must be close to his house in Surrey, but somewhere inconspicuous. Somewhere dark and hidden, where no one would think to look. . .   
  
.. . . like in an alleyway. Maybe behind a dustbin. Yes! That's it! Voldemort, you old cad, you're not just an Evil Genius, you're an Evil Super Genius!   
  
Must go for now. I believe Lucius wants to review torture protocol. More details later.

Love,

_ Voldie_


	3. 6, July 1995

**_A/N: No, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! Pay attention to me! Pay attention to ME!! Well, unless you're a lawyer, then look for the bald guy over there._**  
  
_6, July 1995  
  
Dear Diary,_  
  
I am the absolute worst super villain ever to walk the planet. I am horrid. I am inept. I don't even want to go down to the club anymore. The last time I was in there, Cobra Commander and Venom compared me at length to Gargamel, much to the delight of the others in the sauna. When they find out about this, I'll be a laughingstock.   
  
It was a wonderful plan, and it should have worked perfectly. **Should have** being the operative words.  
  
I sent Wormtail ahead and find an inconspicuous place for me to work from, and he came back with a fabulous spot almost directly across from Potter's house. There was even a rather large dustbin behind it. It was perfect.   
  
I waited until nightfall, then Apparated into the alley to await the dawn in all my delicious evilness. It took all the will power I had not to giggle with glee every time I thought about what the morning would bring. Luckily, Narcissa had made me a care package of butterbeer and her amazing cinnamon biscuits, so I didn't even have to skip a meal.   
  
She's so thoughtful. I must keep that in mind the next time I have an opening in the ranks. She would make a wonderful addition to the inner circle. Well, there are a few openings since some were too cowardly to come forward at the cemetery. _Ooooh_, I should squish their heads!   
  
No, even that couldn't lift my spirits. I might as well give up my dreams of world domination. I can't even defeat a few cats!  
  
Yes, that's right. Lord Voldemort, Evil Super Villain, was defeated by a bunch of pussy cats.   
  
It was all going quite according to my hideously diabolical plans until the kitties showed up. There were only 4 in all, but with my allergies, they were more than enough.   
  
Within minutes of them showing up and rubbing against my ankles, I was an absolute mess. I thought the whole "absence of a proper nose" thing was supposed to help alleviate any allergy symptoms, but apparently not. It's actually worse. Have you ever had a runny nose without a nose? Quite disgusting, let me tell you.   
  
I managed to shoo three of them away, but a fourth was obviously not an alleycat (he even had a tag saying _"Hello, My Name Is Mr. Tibbles"_ on a heart. Rather adorable, really.) and wouldn't be dissuaded from my side. Even when I thought he had finally gone, I felt something playing with the tip of my hat, and sure enough, there he was, batting it around like some toy.   
  
Thank Merlin Harry Potter didn't show up then. How could I have terrorized him if he had seen me like that? A snotty nosed villain crouched behind a dustbin and covered in cat hair? What in hell was I thinking?! Disgusting. I am appalled at myself.   
  
No, I don't deserve to be a super villain any more. All I want to do is wallow in self pity and have Harry Potter's head served to me on a platter. Is that too much to ask? **Is it?**   
  
Ugh. Must go for now. I have to explain to the others why I have failed. Again. Maybe Emperor Palpatine will have a few ideas about the eradication of an enemy. If not, Joker's always good for a laugh.   
  
Ta for now.  
  
Love,  
  
_Voldie_


End file.
